if all i ever am is used
why do i need to contemplate my existence anymore
because i know i'm not as worth
to them
as they are to me
will i succeed in writing with blood
because ink feels too fake
for the emotions that never fade
don't understand but i watch my tears flood
kitchen to bathroom as my lovability shrunk
they left the hopelessness to grow
i think of autumn leaves, i think of me
like i've surrendered to the wind and cold
as i take a final breath
wonder what's the final step
will i get back to me?
no more a lover at the lakes, i'm
walking in a daze, but i'm
longing for a face, and i'm
still waiting for the day.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem